


Pilots

by The Manwell (Manniness)



Series: Impossible Arc [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, alternating pov, shifting pov, takes place during the series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-15
Updated: 2006-01-15
Packaged: 2020-10-25 06:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20719277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manniness/pseuds/The%20Manwell
Summary: A.C. 195: Duo Maxwell meets Heero Yuy. (A somewhat adversarial interpretation of the first half of the Gundam Wing series.)





	Pilots

_A.C. 195_

. . .

_~ Duo Maxwell ~_

That guy.

I can’t stop the somewhat exasperated sigh that escapes me. From the first, I’d known he would be impossible to work with. Hell, he’d barely even acknowledged my existence and I’d _shot_ him. Twice! And not only that, I’d launched a rescue operation when he’d ended up in the hands of the Alliance. I’d finagled and charmed and snuck my way up to the fiftieth floor and bloody saved his sorry ass. I’d even used some of my own _personal_ stock of explosives to do it. Hell, I’d given him the _parachute_ off my back!

But I didn’t stop there. Oh no, I just _had_ to follow my instincts. _He’s a good guy,_ they told me. _You’ll want him on your side,_ they told me. _He’s just a little shy, _they told me.

Shy.

Yeah, that one still cracks me up. _Anti-social_ was more like it. _Anti-Christ_ was even a definite possibility. And here’s the kicker: I just kept going back for more. It’s amazing what you can learn about yourself during a war. For example, I’d always considered myself a bit of a hedonist. But a true hedonist wouldn’t take the sullen indifference, the snide wit, and derisive glares for long. And I did. So, yeah, definitely _not _a hedonist.

More like _masochist_.

I can’t quite figure out what exactly it is about the guy that makes up for his attitude. And there _must_ be something. It’s not the conversation, that’s for damn sure. Or the warm camaraderie.

Hmm... maybe it’s the competition. Yeah, that must be it. Even though we _appear_ to be fighting against the same enemy – at the moment, anyway – he still feels more like a rival than a comrade. It only takes one of those side-long glances of his and I’m ready for a good fight. Not with _him_ necessarily, but... Ah, hell. How can I explain it? It’s like I want to... no, I _need _to show him up.

Yeah, he thinks he’s all that. Mr. The-Shit-On-A-Stick. Uh huh. I’ll just have to disagree. I mean, _who_ stopped the Alliance from recovering his suit from the bottom of the ocean? _Who_ brought it up to the surface unassisted? _Who_ lent him the resources to store said suit? Yeah. Me. And what does he do? He uses _my_ Deathscythe for parts and freaking _takes off_ without so much as a “Nah nah-nah!” or a “Thank you.”

Not that I’m bitter.

Oh, no. Seriously, I’m not. Why waste the energy being bitter when plotting revenge is so much more satisfying?

And painful.

I wince as my left calf begins to cramp up. Looks like I won’t be making it to the eight-mile mark without a rest first. I jog down to a walk and step off the asphalt to stretch my muscles. 

Pilot training has done a lot for me. Trust me, learning the intricacies of a battle-mode mobile suit ain’t no cakewalk. But after that series of encounters with _that guy_... especially after watching him rip one of his arms free from those restraints in the hospital and set his own broken leg aboard the Sweepers’ ship... well, let’s just say I felt like I’d received the quick and dirty version of the Gundam pilot spiel. Which is why I’ve suddenly adopted a more rigorous work-out schedule. Which is why my muscles are screaming at me like the apocalypse is coming.

I don’t dare sit down on the patches of soft-looking grass. I force myself to continue working my left leg muscles and, as soon as I’ve managed to ease the ache, I’ll be back on the road. But that doesn’t stop me from taking advantage of the view. And this snaking mountain road has got one hell of a view. It’s still early morning and the sun is hovering over the lake in the distance. Its shadow of glittering white winks up at me from the rippled surface of the water. The cool breeze whispers through the feathery pine trees marching up the fallen walls of the valley.

All I can do is stare; the earth is beautiful. No other words can measure its intensity. And, for a moment, I waver. Why not just stay here for a while longer? Why not just enjoy the moment? _Carpe diem_ and all that?

But then my imagination paints in the sight of _him_ approaching. I visualize him charging up this narrow mountain road and diminishing the lead I’d worked my ass off to acquire. In my mind, he’s not even out of breath.

That does it. I’m back on the road and running full-out. Like hell that guy’s _ever_ going to beat me at something as stupid as a little twelve-mile race up a mountain. Not even in my dreams.

Notes

In this scene, Duo is reminiscing events that occurred in episodes 2, 3, and 4 of the series:

:: Episode 2: Duo fights off the Alliance and recovers Heero’s Gundam. He seems to have just followed the Alliance activity to see what the fuss is all about then, seeing it’s a Gundam, decides to use it for parts. Shortly thereafter, Duo shoots Heero in the right arm and left thigh to stop him from shooting Relena.

:: Episode 3: After Heero launches the torpedoes at the surfacing Gundams, he passes out in the water only to wake up in Alliance custody. Duo takes it upon himself to break him out just to assuage his curiosity about the mysterious fellow pilot. While Duo’s examining Heero’s restraints, trying to figure out the best way to free him, Heero rips one arm free and, ignoring the blood all over his hand, calmly asks Duo for the knife. Later, with Wing hidden away aboard the Sweeper’s ship, Heero sets his broken leg himself, thereby grossing Duo out.

:: Episode 4: Duo attempts to initiate a conversation with Heero while Heero’s evaluating the damage to his mobile suit. Heero repairs his suit in one night (by stealing the parts from Deathscythe) and takes off without a word to his hosts.

. . .

_~ Heero Yuy ~_

Duo Maxwell.

I frown up at the smooth, boring ceiling of my room in the darkness as his essence crosses my mind. I haven’t really allowed myself to think about him, not even when I’d been “borrowing” the parts I’d needed from his Gundam. In fact, at the moment, I _ought_ to be focusing my attention on preparing for my next, currently undisclosed mission. But I’m in a bit of a funk and no one’s monitoring me through a two-way mirror so I’ll think about Duo if I want to, God damn it.

As soon as I make the decision to permit him free rein within my mind, he’s there. The sound of his voice. The easy gestures. The large, dark eyes. I find it difficult to believe he’s a Gundam pilot. I would have expected the L2 scientist to choose someone with a bit less... flare. Duo has this... presence. A long time ago, I’d heard the phrase “larger than life” but until I’d met Duo, I hadn’t really grasped the concept therein.

I find it hard to believe he’d managed to make it all the way to my room in that Alliance hospital without setting off a dozen alarms and alerting security. That had been unexpected. 

I feel my brows draw together as I take the time to recall the incident in detail. Hell, the whole thing had been unexpected. He’d probably knocked out or killed a guard in order to hack into the video surveillance unit just to let me know he was on his way to help. How had he traced me to that location, anyway? And why? He’d shot me, after all. So what was this new game of his?

I can’t remember being more confused than I was at that moment. But I hadn’t had the time to dwell on it. A few minutes later, he’d blasted his way into the room and it was suddenly time to stop brooding and start running. But I can think now. There’s actually not much else for me to do at the moment.

I systematically list all of the risks he’d taken and resources he’d used to get me out of there. It had been a substantial operation. I wonder if he’d been ordered to go in after me. J might possibly have known about my incarceration, but it would have taken considerably more time to locate and deliver a mission to the nearest available operative: Duo. And I’d only been in Alliance custody for one night.

So he’d gone after me of his own free will.

Why?

Again, that one word. That one word that has the power to drive me insane if I don’t distract myself from it. But it’s impossible. I _must_ know why Duo launched an unapproved rescue mission. He hadn’t even known who the hell I was.

I sigh in perfect silence. I can’t rationalize this. Nor can I figure out his motives for lending me the safety of his hideout. The best thing I can think of is that, somehow, Duo’s instincts had told him to do that either because I could be a potential threat to his assignment or because he thought the gesture might win me over to his side. Still, that doesn’t exactly explain why he didn’t just leave me in the hands of the military. Or shoot me when he’d gone in after me. After all, soldiers – _assassins_ – don’t have “friends.”

God damn it, why can’t people in general be more like mobile suits? Then maybe I wouldn’t be lying here mulling over something that will be no more clear to me no matter how many brain cells I exercise in its pursuit.

Damn. I hate the waiting. The cold, metal floor radiates its chill up through my sock-clad feet but I don’t swing my legs up onto the bed. Even if it’s cold, at least it’s _something._

I remember the adrenaline rush from the brief resistance I’d encountered when I’d entered Earth’s atmosphere. I remember decimating my enemies. I remember I’d laughed. I can’t remember the last time I’d laughed before that.

I close my eyes.

I sigh.

I _really_ need to get the hell out of here.

And then, as if providence had heard my plea, my computer beeps and an incoming message begins to scroll across the screen. I’m on my feet and sliding into the chair opposite instantly.

“Target is North Pacific Ocean OZ Supply Base... Roger that mission.”

Notes

This scene is taken from episode 5:

:: Episode 5: Heero’s lying on his bunk in a small, dark, windowless room waiting for a mission to come through.

. . .

_~ Duo Maxwell ~_

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

I cannot _believe_ my luck. I flop down on my back across the tarp-covered surface of my mobile suit, tuck my hands behind my head and stare up into the night sky. When I’d arrived at the North Pacific Ocean OZ Supply Base and seen the smoking rubble, a half-formed suspicion had forced my hands to tighten around the controls. I hadn’t let myself dwell on it at the time, but I’d speculated on just who my competition was. I’d figured it must be _him._

And it was.

So here was my second chance to set this guy straight. To deflate his dangerously over-inflated ego just a tad.

_“It looks like we’re both after the same thing.”_

And had I managed to do that?

_“Well? Aren’t you gonna at least respond??”_

The next few moments had been promising. He’d lifted his Buster Rifle and aimed it right at me. I’d locked my Buster Shield on him.

_“Seems like the two of us will have to fight it out after all.”_

And I’d had to fight to keep my cool. Damn, I hadn’t realized how much I’d been _craving_ an opportunity like this. But as much as I’d wanted this, I’d decided to call him on his bluff. Recklessness would get me nowhere with this guy. So I’d waited. And that’s when my phenomenal bad luck decided to make an appearance.

The ground beneath Deathscythe gave way and I had to throw myself into regaining my equilibrium. And _that’s_ when he made his move. I could hear my own voice echoing in the cockpit and I froze as that glowing beam of energy rushed toward me. The explosion came. And went. And I was still standing.

Then I heard the crash of a mobile suit slamming to the ground behind me.

_What the hell??_

He’d shot the enemy behind me.

And _this_ is when he’d decided to get talkative.

_“I’ve returned the favor.”_

And then he’d laughed. That _bastard._

_“Damn you! I’ll get you back!”_

Heh. That’s one promise I’m definitely gonna be keeping.

Dimly, I hear a few of the mechanics drifting towards the mess hall for a drink after a long day. I almost snort. If they think _their_ jobs are hard, they should give my life a try for twenty-four hours.

“Hey, Duo! Duo!”

I sit up, eager for a distraction away from the day’s earlier humiliation.

I glance over my shoulder and spot Howard wearing one of his loud, pink Hawaiian shirts.

“What’s up, Duo? Whatcha doin’ there?”

“Nothin’. Just thinking how beautiful the moon looks from Earth,” I tell him, not entirely honest. But hey, if I hadn’t been so consumed with thoughts of the day’s mission, I _would have_ been thinking about the beauty of the moon. And that’s close enough for me.

“You bet it does. It’s a real beauty.”

I actually take a moment to contemplate the topic of our easy conversation and I realize that it really _is_ beautiful. I hear myself musing, “From the colony the moon’s just too close. It almost looks like a graveyard.”

“Yeah...” Howard agrees, sounding oddly... detached and awed. “A graveyard...”

I hide a smirk. I guess ol’ Howie’s gotten into his personal stash o’ hash already tonight. For a nanosecond, I consider teasing him about it but I’m too introspective to really work up the enthusiasm. “I wonder how long I’ll be able to see the moon like this?” I say instead.

“Hm. I doubt if that guy even looks at the moon,” I hear someone comment. And it takes me a moment to realize _I’d_ said it. Shit. What’s this crap I’m spewing? Forcing a nonchalant air, I lay back down on Deathscythe’s knee and attempt to save some face, not that Howard will clearly remember this conversation in the morning or anything, but because _I _will.

“He should try enjoying life rather than spending his time trying to outsmart me.” And then I feel the corners of my mouth twitch upward as I continue, “While he’s alive, that is.”

My cool guy façade successfully restored, I continue contemplating the moon and wait for Howard’s reply.

“I know what you’re saying but it’s not that simple,” he tells me. I hear him turn away and head toward the mess hall. Probably for another beer and some snacks. That’s one thing I can say for hanging out here; no one thinks I eat a lot, not when the guys regularly see the size of Howard’s appetite after he’s dipped into his not so little bag o’ crop.

But he’s not done pontificating and his parting shot is simply, “It’s just human nature.”

That gets me thinking again. Damn. It’s bad enough I feel like a total heel for screwing up at North Pacific but now I’m starting to sift back through my memories and examine the guy’s mannerisms. All work, no play. How can anyone be remotely happy with a mindset like that? Maybe the rush of battle is the only joy he allows himself. It’s a depressing thought but it explains that creepy laugh of his before he’d taken off.

“What’s that guy doing? I wonder...”

Damn it. There goes my mouth again. On autopilot, as usual. I do _not_ want to wonder about him. I _want_ to kick his smug ass all over the J.A.P. point.

I gaze up at the moon and decide to dump Deathscythe into the ocean tomorrow. I need to work on my reaction time. I sigh. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. But I’m convinced that the day’s gonna come when he and I are gonna get the chance to duke it out. And I’d better be ready. Unless I want to embarrass myself _again._

_Not gonna happen,_ I think, my gaze hardening into a glare. I haven’t made it this far just to take second place without a damn long, hard fight.

Notes

The conversation and confrontation Duo recalls is from episode 5. The actual scene (including Howard and the moon) are from episode 6.

:: Episode 5: Duo receives the same mission as Heero but arrives a little late. After Duo’s attempt at conversation is blatantly ignored, they square off. Then the rubble beneath Deathscythe’s foot gives way and Duo is momentarily distracted. Heero fires and takes out a Leo that had snuck up behind Duo. Heero declares he’s returned the favor, laughs, and takes off. Duo swears to get back at him.

:: Episode 6: Duo has a conversation with Howard while he’s lying on his back looking up at the moon.

. . .

_~ Heero Yuy ~_

It all comes back to me at the strangest times: all of the things I’d been trying so very hard not to think about.

In an instant, I’m stealing the shuttle that I’d planned to use to get myself and Wing to the New Edwards Base. I’m aiming my gun at a too-familiar mobile suit hitching a ride in the cargo hold. I’m watching that familiar black-clad figure leaping from the cockpit and staring up at me with those ever-changing eyes. And he has the audacity to just invite himself along.

_“Hey! You load yours on, too, pal. I’ll come and take over the cockpit.”_

_“Duo...”_

_“This time I’m definitely not gonna let the mission fail. How about trusting me a bit?”_

_“Do what you want.”_

Why had I let him accompany me? Why had I let him pilot the shuttle? _My_ shuttle? Why had I trusted him? Why hadn’t I shot him? But then, I hadn’t been able to kill Relena, either. _Focus on the mission,_ I’d told myself. And I had. Until Duo had spoken.

_“Oh, man. This is gonna be quite the battle, isn’t it?”_

_“This mission’s really big. I don’t think you get it.”_

_“You bet I do. This is our chance to finally destroy the OZ organization.”_

_“This time is different. We’re gonna eliminate every OZ leader.”_

_“Yeah... Then I go back to space.”_

He’d looked so... at peace. Again, I’d wondered how he could be an adequate soldier. His emotions are so apparent. That had not been how I’d been trained. And as I’d studied his profile, I’d wondered what he had to go back to in outer space. I had a lab and a group of scientists and a training program to return to. For the first time, I started to really wonder about who he had been before coming to Earth. I wondered if he’d had a normal childhood. I wondered what that would have been like.

But, to my surprise, I’d discovered at New Edwards that Duo _was_ a soldier. A damn good one.

_“Woah. This defense line isn’t like the others.”_

_“Ten times more of them. That’s much more than we estimated.”_

_“Well there’s no turning back now!”_

He hadn’t either. Even though his suit hadn’t been equipped with a rifle, he’d more than held his own. Using his Beam Scythe and relying on the limber dexterity of his suit and his own reaction time, he’d woven easily through the battlefield. Clearly, I’d underestimated him. Or had he intended to give me that impression during our earlier encounters? I’d no longer been so sure he was the suspicious fool I’d initially thought him to be. But then, after my egregious error at New Edwards, I hadn’t been sure of anything anymore.

_“Hey, kid! Look out! You’ll get shot!”_

I’d heard Duo’s voice over the comm. _I’ll get shot?_ I’d opened my eyes. Getting shot was the least of what I deserved for blindly complying with Treize’s plans and assassinating the Alliance’s pacifists for him.

_“Don’t just stand there!”_

But I had. And he’d stayed. He and the pilot whose suit’s main weapon had been a pair of Heat Shotels. They’d reentered the battle and attempted to draw enemy fire away from me. At first, I hadn’t cared.

_“So how long do you expect us to look after you?”_

That voice. Duo. My hands had tightened around the controls as anger had begun to flutter to life beneath my skin, in my blood. Then someone had finally drawn a bead on me and I’d just sat there and taken the shot. I’d deserved this.

But where Duo’s taunts hadn’t been enough to get me to move, a stranger’s voice offering up a mission had. A woman’s voice had echoed out into the night and given me the chance to prevent further unnecessary destruction and death. And, in that moment, I hadn’t been capable of turning away from that opportunity.

_“A failed mission means death, but my card hasn’t come up yet.”_

The explosion of the base had been prevented but that hadn’t changed the fact that I’d completely, totally, irrevocably fucked up. The anger, the pain, all of it had been shoved away. It’s the only way I know how to deal with failure. Although I can recall experiencing different reactions, once upon a time. But the training had ensured I’d never experience those again. Strong emotions are not acceptable. So I’d buried it all deep in my soul. Hell, I’m pretty sure I’ll die before I have to sort through my own feelings anyway.

“Heero!”

Reluctantly, I turn my attention back to the game in progress. I’m torn between feeling grateful to have a distraction from my thoughts and feeling resentful that I must participate in these pointless activities. Duo sends the ball in my direction and I easily catch it. Now for the drive to the net. Mission accepted. I almost smile.

I dodge my opponents easily and set up the shot. I calculate the trajectory and I take my own rebound. Slam dunk.

“Nice shot, Heero!” Duo shouts.

The small crowd of fellow students cheers. It sounds too much like the chaos during a fight. Too much like my own inner screams during that last battle at New Edwards. Duo settles his arm on my shoulder and waves back at our fans.

He tells me, “Hey! Wave back to them or something! They’re cheerin’ for us, superstar!”

I need to get out of here. I ignore the odd silence and attention that follow me as I just walk away. I can feel the curious stares of the other students and the amused smirk of one Duo Maxwell on my back. It irritates me the way he looks at me. As if he can see right down to my soul. As if he knows the secrets even I don’t acknowledge about myself. It pisses me off.

Now in need of some time and space in order to cool down my temper, I seek out a lonely bench overlooking the sea. It takes me a while, but I do eventually relax somewhat. Until:

“So this is where you went...”

I look up from the bench I’m occupying as he approaches. God damn it, can I just be left the hell alone for a while? I decide to ignore him. He’ll go away. Eventually.

“You know, that’s pretty smart. Changing schools when you’ve gotta move on. After all, it’s natural for people our age to be in school.”

This reminds me. I’d been meaning to ask him why he’d followed me here. And I’m pretty sure he _had_ followed me. I don’t believe in coincidences.

“What’s the idea?” I demand, staring at him as he gazes out into the ocean from where he leans against the railing.

He almost chuckles. “I’m just trying to act normal.”

“You stand out.” I gain a certain amount of satisfaction at having the opportunity to point this out to him.

But, alas, he has a comeback for this as well: “You wouldn’t be as suspicious if you acted natural instead of being so secretive.” My only consolation is that he crosses his arms over his chest which is normally a defensive gesture. He leans closer to me and challenges, “Why don’t you just chill out a bit and have some fun as a student?”

All right. It’s time to wrap this conversation up. If he won’t leave, I will. “Leave me alone,” I say, standing.

He grins. “And stay outta your way, right?”

I pause. “Hm?”

His eyes gleam with a mischievous light. “The two of us are going after the same thing, here,” he confides. “You can’t hide it from me. I can see it in your eyes as plain as day, pal.”

Is it possible to glare someone into oblivion? I’m pretty sure I’m attempting to do just that to my unwanted shadow right now.

He doesn’t even flinch. “What do you say the first one to destroy that ship wins?”

I follow his gaze out to the craft moored in the sparkling bay. He wants to turn this mission into a race, does he? I wonder what the prize will be, but since he hasn’t offered a suggestion, I decide that the winner will get to choose his prize. In silence, I accept his offer, contemplating my moment of victory when I will calmly inform him that from now on he’s to leave me the hell alone.

Notes

During this scene, Heero is remembering events that had happened in episodes 7 & 8. There is also a very vague reference to material we find out about in Endless Waltz. The scene itself is from episode 9.

:: Episode 7: In the process of stealing a shuttle to transport his suit to the New Edwards Base, Duo shows up and loads his suit onto the craft uninvited. Once airborne, Duo pilots the shuttle and has a short exchange with Heero, his reluctant passenger. Upon arrival at their destination, Duo and Heero comment to each other during the battle at New Edwards before the other Gundam pilots show up.

:: Episode 8: After the deaths of the Alliance’s pacifists, Heero stops fighting and both Quatre and Duo cover for him. It’s not until Sally Po alerts him to the impending destruction of the base that he gets himself together.

:: Endless Waltz: Heero shows his remorse for having caused civilian casualties during a mission and is subsequently retrained in order to eliminate his “weak” emotional response to failure.

:: Episode 9: Heero and Duo end up at the same boarding school, playing on the same team during a student basketball game.

. . .

_~ Duo Maxwell ~_

Ah, I just love fireworks. The explosion rocks the ship and takes out most the enemy’s defense. But, luckily, there are a few manned mobile suits left standing. Otherwise this would be a hideously boring mission. I begin my dance of death, slicing through my opponents as I dodge bullets.

This is a training exercise for me. It’s not as if that pitifully weak firepower will actually damage my suit. Still, why borrow trouble? And besides, I’ll take any opportunity I can get to work on my reaction time. I pivot and bring my scythe into play again. I sigh as the suit I’ve decapitated tumbles to the ground with a satisfying crash. This is _so_ way cooler than the simulators.

I take a moment to absorb the changing layout of the battlefield. Thus far, Deathscythe is the only Gundam here. I grin.

“All right! Looks like I got here first.”

No sooner do the words leave my mouth than a corona of light glinting off of white Gundanium gleams across the screen. God _damn_ it!! Someone up there must _really_ enjoy pissing me off. I lean forward and move to enter the fray in earnest once again. I put a grin into my voice and call out over the comm., “What took you, Heero?”

I know I irritate the hell out of him when I say stuff like that. So I toss a few more digs out just to be sadistic. “Don’t worry,” I console him with saccharine sweetness, “I left you _some_ action.”

God, I just _love_ pushing him. Especially when we’re in battle. In front of the other students, I do my good-ol’-buddy-Duo routine. But out here... My grin takes a turn for the feral. Out here with the adrenaline pumping and my past humiliation in mind, I’m a whole different kind of guy.

I recall sneaking aboard the shuttle he’d been in the process of stealing – the shuttle that would take us to New Edwards – and grit my teeth. God, I can’t believe I’d fucking _apologized_ to him. It wasn’t as if I’d even screwed up that North Pacific mission at all, damn it. But hey, it’s like a big game of chess. You’ve got to know when to sacrifice something in order to advance to the next level. And I had. I’ve been getting closer to him and he doesn’t like it. Heh. _Good._

Now all I’ve got to do is make sure he never, _ever_ figures out what I really think of him. He can’t know that I’m secretly on his side, cheering for him. He can’t know that his victories are my victories, too. He’s an amazing guy. But like hell I’ll ever share that with _him._

A second explosion forces my attention away from my duel. My eyes widen as I watch the control tower go up in a billowing cylinder of flame. _God damn it!!_ Heero’d managed to take out the target. _Shit!!_

Growling, I turn back to the unfortunate survivors and start to take out my frustrations on the inadequate Leo suits. I almost laugh at myself for thinking Heero’s successes are mine as well. I can be _such_ a melodramatic idiot sometimes. Still, it’s not going to take much to take the wind out of Heero’s sails. Over the comm., I call, “Yo, Heero! Nice shot, man! This sure is relaxing with you doing all the hard work for me, buddy!”

I think I hear him growl back at me over the line.

I grin.

I disembowel the last Leo.

I love my life.

Notes

This scene is from episode 9. The events Duo recalls of sneaking aboard Heero’s stolen shuttle is from episode 7.

:: Episode 9: Duo shows up at the target first and begins to cause havoc.

:: Episode 7: In the cargo hold of the shuttle, Heero’s gun trained on him, Duo promises not to let the mission fail.

. . .

_~ Heero Yuy ~_

_“I’ve come to say good-bye. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”_

I remember the grim determination in the line of Duo’s usually mobile mouth and only now do I understand: Duo believes he’s going to die on this mission.

The thought does something odd to me. It calls up another memory: the brief conversation we’d had as he’d flown our shuttle toward New Edwards. I remember the slight smile on his lips. The fondness in his voice when he’d spoken of returning to space.

Duo doesn’t want to die.

Perhaps that’s why my hand shakes as I send back my acceptance of J’s latest mission: self-detonate. I wonder if Duo’s received these orders as well. And, as infuriating as the guy is, I don’t wish this on him. I rush to comply with my orders. If I do this, perhaps it will generate enough of a shock that the other pilots will be spared.

I pause. I can’t believe I’m thinking like this. We’re all soldiers. We all knew what we’d signed on for. None of us really believe our lives are worth more than the cause. Still... why waste resources if it’s not necessary?

I open the hatch and step out of my suit, the detonation device in my fist. I haven’t got any regrets per se. More like good moments that I’ll miss remembering. Flying. I’m going to miss flying. The feel of my Gundam thrumming with power beneath my fingertips. The adrenaline rush from battle. The satisfaction of completing a difficult mission. Duo.

I hesitate at that thought. Why would I miss someone who seems to exist to make my life more difficult? Although I must admit, those few encounters shortly after we’d met had been particularly satisfying. I’d shocked him. Several times. I’d even baited him and clashed wits with him. My lips twitch at that. He’d been so easy to bait in the beginning. He’d practically set himself up for it. I easily remember his reaction when I’d received a new mission aboard the Sweepers’ sea craft.

_“What is it?”_

_“I’m on call. An enemy carrier is transporting Gundanium alloy. I’ll see to it first thing in the morning.”_

_“Hey! You can’t go anywhere with your machine in this shape. We’re talkin’ miracles here!”_

_“It’d take a miracle for you, but I can handle it.”_

Although I have to admit, he’d given it back just as good as I’d dished it out:

_“We~ell... excuse me for being a mere mortal...”_

My slight smirk fades at those last two words. I think that, somehow, he’s got that backwards. Someone like him is hardly “merely” anything.

We’d been performing an interesting dance since our initial encounter. Each of us attempting to figure out the motives and objectives of the other. He’d been outgoing and helpful until he’d gotten tired of me continually brushing him off. I suppose, if I regret anything, it would be my attitude then. It would have been nice to have battled wits with him a bit more than I had. I only now realize just how much I’d enjoyed his argumentative conversation. The intellectual challenge. I hadn’t been offered many of those thus far in my life.

Oh, God. I’m going to miss Duo. That annoying, frustrating, jeering voice. Those laughing, incorrigible, mischievous eyes. Something inside my chest aches.

I stare straight ahead at my enemy’s mobile suit and intone, “Mission accepted.”

Notes

This scene is from episode 10 with a brief flashback from episode 4:

:: Episode 10: Duo stops by Heero’s dorm room just before shipping out to intercept the OZ transport. During the mission, Heero receives orders from Dr. J to _not_ surrender the Gundam. Heero steps out of his Gundam and triggers the self-detonation device.

:: Episode 4: The latter half of Duo and Heero’s conversation occurred aboard the Sweepers’ ship while Heero’s evaluating the status of his Gundam.

. . .

_~ Duo Maxwell ~_

I can hear them outside. They said they needed food and water. They asked for assistance. And maybe I’m just a little too jaded for my youth, but I think what those OZ troops really came to this desert base looking for is trouble. They came looking for us. For the Gundams and their pilots.

I’m tempted to give them exactly what they’re asking for.

“Duo...”

I sigh. I don’t look at my companion. I can only imagine the look on my face that’s drawn that soft, warning tone.

“I know, Quatre,” I tell him. “I _know._”

I’d _love_ to go out there and acquaint those cowardly Ozzies with my Beam Scythe. Dear God what I wouldn’t give to be out there right this instant. But I can’t, not with OZ’s threat against the colonies as a factor. I slide down the stucco wall until I’m sitting with my knees bent in front of me and my hands fisted on my thighs. There are no words strong enough to describe my rage at OZ in this moment.

My eyes close and for the one-hundred and fifth time I’m watching Heero and his Gundam go up in a brilliant blast. The darkness behind my eyes becomes my suit’s vid screen and I’m staring at fireworks that should be a powerful, adrenaline-fueling sight. But all I feel is sick to my stomach... and angry. Very, _very _angry.

“He probably saved our Gundams and our lives,” Quatre says softly, somehow knowing exactly what I’m thinking. Ah, hell. I don’t suppose it’s all that hard to read me. After all, Quatre had been the one to call Heero my friend. It’s odd that I’d never thought of him as a friend, odd that it had never even occurred to me. I sit here in the cool shadows and wonder what it would have been like to be friends.

Too fucking late now.

Reluctantly, I allow myself to be drawn into the conversation. “How do you figure that, Quatre?”

I suppose, if I took the time to think about it, I could figure it out. But I don’t and I don’t want to, either. I just want to sit here and hate the soldiers crawling all over our hideout.

“Well, if one of the engineers had ordered his agent to self-detonate, don’t you think the others would have followed suit as well rather than allow us to be taken into custody?”

I look up at him, really thinking about the events that leave me in a cold sweat of fury. I think about it and I realize he’s right. If Heero hadn’t acted quickly, thereby shocking enough sense into OZ to force them to withdraw their immediate threat, the rest of us would have received those orders to go down with our suits rather than accept OZ’s terms of surrender.

God... could I have done it? Could I have just pushed the button and gone up in flames? I mean, I’d always believed I’d be better off dead than living under OZ’s thumb but could I do it? Could I kill myself for the cause?

I... I don’t know.

_God damn you, Heero Yuy. _Why’d he have to concede the fight so early in the game? _Why??_

_God fucking damn you, Yuy. _I can’t believe I’ve won our little undeclared war... by forfeit no less. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. I shake my head. If that guy weren’t already dead I’d kill him myself. I almost think I liked the situation better when I’d only been thinking of Heero’s blind compliance with his assignment. But if what Quatre said is true... if Heero had self-detonated to save the rest of us from the same fate...

My lip curls upward into a silent snarl.

I fucking hate martyrs.

Notes

This scene is from episode 11.

:: Episode 11: Duo and Quatre hide out with the Maganac Corps in the desert but OZ tracks them down and places explosives around the civilian homes under the pretense of replenishing some of their supplies. Earlier in the episode, Duo confides in Quatre his willingness to die rather than live in a world ruled by OZ.

. . .

_~ Heero Yuy ~_

I want him to find me. That’s why I’d used his name, but if asked I’ll never admit to it. I’d been relatively sure that he had figured out that I was still alive but... but I’d wanted him to know I hadn’t forgotten him. That only now, after months spent in convalescence, after months spent in Trowa’s quiet and undemanding company, have I started to realize that I owe Duo Maxwell a great debt of friendship.

So why, upon seeing his likeness on the vid screen, had my first thought been of eliminating him? I try not to think about that too hard. I try not to dwell on how cold and calculating I can be.

I’d stowed away on a cargo shuttle in a produce crate. Heh... Me, a Gundam pilot, scourge of the earth and the colonies, hiding amongst the fancy lettuce. I’d smiled at that. But the shuttle had gotten me to the colony where they were holding Duo. Holding him while they arranged for his execution. I almost shiver every time I think of that. And I ignore the fact that I’ve arrived with that very same objective in mind. I can feel the gun tucked into my waistband as the elevator descends. The yellow track lights whisper over me in quick succession as my controlled fall brings me closer to the detention cells. I don’t ask myself if I’m ready, if I can really do this. The trick, I’ve discovered, is not to think about necessary evils too much.

And then I’m there, slinking out into the hall. I see only one guard and feel both relieved and insulted at once. Relieved because this will be relatively simple. Insulted because OZ ought to have more respect for one of us. And Duo is most definitely one of us. I’ve seen him fight. He’s brilliant...

But then my eyes narrow as another alternative for the lack of guards comes to me. Perhaps Duo is in no condition to resist effectively. The anger surprises me. I should have expected something like this from OZ but, oddly enough, I hadn’t considered it. My gaze returns to the closed door behind which is one possibly battered Gundam pilot. A rival. A comrade. A dead man.

I tell myself to take this one step at a time. First: take out the guard. I do so quickly, allowing my training to take over and guide my hands in the silent strike. I insert the man’s pass card and the door shivers open. I unceremoniously dump my burden into the tiny, unadorned and unlighted cell. Directly opposite me, slumped back against the wall, is Duo.

He looks like shit. Listening to the wheezing quality of his breathing, I sweep my gaze over him, automatically cataloguing his injuries.

“What a surprise,” he manages to say in a ghost of his former humor. “Hey, Heero!”

I almost return the greeting. But no. I’m here to kill him. As soon as the thought asserts itself, my gun comes up. He doesn’t seem particularly shocked by this turn of events.

“Just in time,” he doggedly continues. “They were about to use me and my Gundam for their wicked plans.” I watch him struggle painfully to his feet. He leans back against that same dingy wall for support. “If I’m gonna die, it’d seem appropriate for you to do it.”

God, he says that as if it’s going to make it easier for me to pull the trigger.

“Here,” he says, lifting his chin and closing his eyes. “Go right a head and shoot me.”

Damn it, I can’t do it. I pull back on the trigger but not enough. And I can’t make myself curl my index finger tighter around it. Shit. What the hell is _wrong_ with me lately? Duo _has_ to die. This is _necessary._ But as soon as I assure myself of this, a small part of me rebels. _Necessary? Is it really?_

I stare at him. I can feel the inclination to finish this mission start to slip over me. Fuck. I’m really going to kill him. I _know_ I am.

_God damn open your eyes and _stop_ me, Duo!_

“Hey!” he protests and, miracle of miracles, those large unforgettable eyes open. He looks back at me over the muzzle of the gun and even though his voice is incredulous, the look in his eyes isn’t. His expression is simply resigned and... sad.

I don’t want to kill him.

“You’re really gonna shoot me, aren’t you?”

I wrestle with my soldier’s instincts. I don’t want to kill him. I _won’t_ kill him.

I reply, “If that’s what you want me to do...” But it’s not what _I_ want to do. I turn away, unable to stand there and see myself reflected in his eyes. I am such a cold bastard.

I toss him the hand gun. “Your right hand’s still okay, isn’t it?”

Notes

This scene is from episode 19.

:: Episode 19: Heero sees the news report on the captured Gundam pilot and promises to eliminate “all negative factors.” Heero infiltrates OZ’s detention cells to execute Duo Maxwell before OZ can use him to further their cause. At the last possible moment, Heero changes his mind and rescues him instead.

. . . 

_~ Duo Maxwell ~_

Life sucks for me at the moment, but I guess I can’t complain. I mean, the alternative would involve a bullet between the eyes and the pesky side effect of being dead as a door nail. I wince as I attempt to sit up without causing my ribs to crumble to dust against my innards. Fun.

I think back over the past few days and I have to keep my gaze trained on the window of my room to reassure myself that things aren’t so dark anymore. I’m not being escorted in an armored car down the street to the angry shouts and accusations of the people I’m trying to protect. I’m not surrounded by OZ soldiers. I’m not having the crap kicked out of me because I killed somebody’s comrades. I’m not staring at the business end of Heero’s gun, liberation a faint promise behind him as he stands framed in the open doorway. 

I still can’t believe he’d tossed me the gun.

_“So, which way is it? Where’s your Gundam?”_

_“I left it on Earth. It’d stick out too much here in space. So I’d probably wind up getting caught like you did.”_

_“Yeah, well pardon me. So how did you plan on getting us out of here anyway?”_

_“I came here so I could kill you. I hadn’t gotten around to thinking up an escape plan yet.”_

After that conversation, time had seemed to slow. I can recall nearly every agonizing step we’d taken after that. And I can remember marveling at Heero’s tactical brilliance, comforting body heat, and pissed-off determination. Every detail is incredibly sharp in my memory: Heero bending steel bars in order to squeeze both of us through and into the corridor; Heero’s tense body beneath my arm, herding me toward the elevator; Heero laying down cover fire when we’d arrived on our floor and the sound of my name signaling me to detonate the small bombs he’d already carefully placed; Heero reprogramming the mobile dolls to go after the Leos and the soldiers wearing their regulation astrosuits; Heero securing an anonymous shuttle and flying me away; the flat, cold look in Heero’s eyes as he’d committed himself to killing the men who’d helped make both of us who we are.

_“Oh, Heero...”_

My ears pick up the small noise of someone pausing on the other side of my hospital room door. I carefully turn toward the portal as it opens and admits the object of my thoughts. As the door swings shut behind him I dig up a wry grin. “Speak of the devil,” I tell him.

He doesn’t immediately reply. He traverses the room to lean against the doctor’s station across from me.

I elaborate, “I was just wondering what kind of trouble you were thinking about getting yourself into now.”

He slides a few photographs from his pocket and offers them to me. As I consider the images before me, he gives me the short version of his latest investigation. A particular phrase grabs my attention, successfully bringing my gaze back to him.

“Did you say the Lunar Base?” I demand.

“Yes,” he says succinctly, plucking the photos from my limp fingers. “There’s a large amount of Gundanium alloy being brought into the Lunar Base factory. It’s probably for making a new type of mobile suit.”

Oh, crap. He’s serious. Well, sitting around here was getting kinda boring anyway. “So... what are your plans?”

The look he gives me leaves me no room to charm my way out of here with him. Crap. _Again._ “You’ll get in the way,” Heero informs me dispassionately. “Just stay here.”

Oh, he did _not_ just tell me what to do! “What do you mean?” I snap and start to stand. I don’t get very far. _Damn_ I hurt. After a few moments of straining against the pain and huffing carefully, I decide to stop being macho and concede. Just this once. Heero just better not get too used to this docile Duo. He won’t be seeing him a second time. “Considering everything that’s happened lately, I am gonna need time to recover,” I say slowly. Then I focus my gaze on him again and attempt to draw from my seemingly endless reserves of charisma. “But don’t you think you could be a little kinder to me once in a while?”

“Why not go to school instead of me?” he responds and I’m not sure if that’s his version of an answer to my suggestion or if he’s ignoring it completely. “I’ve already gotten the enrollment taken care of under your name.”

“What?! You’ve gotta be kidding!” Now why in the hell would he do _that?_ It takes me a moment, but I think I get it. “Sure, your name would stick out too much here, but still... I mean –”

He cuts me off rather neatly. “Instead of complaining, why not spend your time resting and concentrating on getting better.” It’s not a request. The jerk. I must be really tired. I’d never put up with this bullshit if I weren’t so battered a sweet little ninety-year-old grandmother could take me out in hand-to-hand combat. My imagination supplies a gray-haired, wrinkled granny whipping a pair of knitting needles through the air like num chucks. Lovely.

I shrug, promising him nothing. His eyes narrow. I ignore it. “Don’t overdo it, man,” I tell him, giving him my half-hearted blessing. He must figure it’s all he’s going to get from me at this point because he simply nods and, sliding the surveillance photos of the moon into his pocket, strides toward the door.

I want to say something but I’m not really sure what. The irony tastes like rust on my tongue. How many times since his self-destruct show had I wished for a chance to... what? Tell him he’s more than just a soldier? Tell him that the simple fact of his existence has pushed me harder and further than anyone including myself? Tell him that I’m the pilot I am today because he challenged me to be stronger? All of the above?

The door closes behind him.

Damn it.

I sigh and carefully move myself to the window seat. Maybe I’ll get a glimpse of him leaving...

“Don’t overdo it,” I repeat to the beautiful day beyond the glass. “Like he’s gonna listen. Of course he’s gonna overdo it.”

But there’s not much I can do about it, I know. Hell, even if I’d had Deathsycthe hidden away in the debris around this colony I wouldn’t be able to pilot yet. And what exactly do I think I’d say to him? These overly emotional thoughts the painkillers are producing?

I sigh, feeling my muscles tighten with the frustration of being left behind while he goes in search of destruction and glory. Damn it, _someday_ I’m not going to be playing “catch-up” with Heero Yuy anymore.

And that’s a promise.

Notes

This scene is from episode 20. Duo’s recollections are from events in episode 19:

:: Episode 19: As Duo is escorted through the streets of the colony, the citizens rage against him, calling him a murderer among other things. After Heero decides not to kill him, he manages a half-way decent escape plan and once safely away on a shuttle, declares his duty to kill the scientists who are now in OZ’s custody.

:: Episode 20: Now in the hospital, Duo and Heero converse about where Heero’s going next (i.e., the Lunar Base).

. . .

_~ Heero Yuy ~_

I’m going to throttle him. I squint in the direction of the open cell door and watch as Duo Maxwell is shoved into the gloom. He limps, trips, and staggers down the steps in a semi-controlled tumble.

He’s gotten hurt. _Again._ At the end of my arm cuffs, my fingers curl into tight fists at the sight of him forming a puddle of black cotton and brown braid on the cold floor. Hadn’t I just pulled his obnoxious ass out of the fire? Wasn’t he supposed to be _recovering_ from his last visit to OZ? I’m so aggravated by the sight of him that I almost don’t realize that I’m actually kind of... glad to see him again.

Frustrated with his bullheaded stubbornness and reckless streak, I can’t stop my snide remark, “Botched your mission?” The question is rhetorical. But it _is_ a question. I frown. That should have been a statement, a chastisement. So why had it come out sounding almost soft? I rally my anger and continue to his still figure, “You couldn’t destroy the base and you didn’t kill Dr. J and the others.” I don’t realize until the words are out of my mouth that I have no idea what Duo’s intent had been. Those harsh words I’d aimed at myself. _Shit._ I shouldn’t have said that, but even if I’d wanted to apologize, I can’t. Not with Wufei here. Not with OZ potentially listening in.

For a moment, there’s no response but I know he’s awake.

And then, in a voice strained with the effort to sound normal, he calls back, “How about a little sympathy?”

I open my mouth to reply but he obviously doesn’t expect a response from me. Or he doesn’t want to hear it.

“In any case, I’m still glad I decided to come here.” Slowly, gingerly, he turns his head so that his gaze focuses on Wufei. “I’ve got good news. Your Gundam and mine are being rebuilt as we speak, you know.”

No, I hadn’t known. And by the look on Wufei’s face, he hadn’t known either.

Duo sighs happily. “I can’t wait until they’re done...”

And as much as I want to be furious with him, I understand his need. My Gundam isn’t just a machine, a tool. It’s who I am. “Looks like OZ will be keeping us alive for a while,” I say, voice carefully neutral. “It’s a good chance so don’t die yet.”

He makes a soft grunt of amusement. “Don’t worry about me, pal.”

I blink. I_ am_ worried. I scowl. _Shit... again._

“I have no intention of dying that easily. There’s... the colonies to fight for.”

He’d just hesitated there. What had he been going to say? What is Duo really living for?

“Just watch me,” he says rakishly, “I’ll become the God of Death once again!”

I have to smile at Duo’s spirit. The guy just doesn’t know when to quit.

“But right now...” he continues, exhaustion painting his words, “I need some sleep.”

And then he’s out. My pulse spikes in my veins. I don’t think about concealing my concern any longer. I creep over to him and gently assess his condition. His pulse is steady, his breathing unobstructed, his temperature normal. I don’t dare attempt to remove his clothes to check for other injuries. Duo Maxwell is, first and foremost, a highly trained soldier. I study him for a moment more, happy that he has at least arranged himself in the position least likely to aggravate his old injuries.

I climb midway up the steps and situate myself between him and the cell door. I tell Wufei, “He’ll be all right.”

I think I say the words more for my benefit than because I really think Wufei gives a damn. A small smirk tugs at the corner of my cellmate’s mouth. Apparently, he’s figured the same thing. I decide to shut up.

Silence settles in the dark room and an indeterminate length of time crawls by. Then, voice tinged with curiosity and amusement, Wufei wonders, “Is he always like that?”

“Like what?” I snap. “A pain in the ass?” There’s no response. Hell, I’d known exactly what Wufei had been asking. I finally acknowledge quietly, “Yeah. He is.”

“He has spirit,” Wufei contributes thoughtfully.

“Yeah. He does.” More than me. My gaze stays focused on the unconscious pilot a few feet away as I silently compare and contrast the two of us. There is something fundamentally different and yet the same in our characters. We’re both soldiers and pilots... and yet... Where I see my future as a series of duties and responsibilities, Duo seems to see the future as a game. What are little things like a thorough beating and a humiliating capture compared to returning to battle armed with a superior mobile suit? He’d decided to forgo the mission in favor of greater glories to be had in the future. If I had faced the same options, what would I have chosen?

I’m... not sure.

“I would be honored to fight side-by-side with him in a real battle,” Wufei says quietly. Sincerely.

Without thinking, I reply, my gaze still locked on Duo, “I already am.”

Notes

This scene is from episode 23.

:: Episode 23: Heero and Wufei have already been captured by OZ. They watch as Duo gets chucked into the holding cell with them. Heero berates Duo’s inability to finish the mission. Duo ignores him and delivers the good news to Wufei that their Gundams are being rebuilt.

** **

** **~ End of PILOTS ~** **

**Author's Note:**

> Gundam Wing fanfic news & updates can be found on my Kofi page -- https://ko-fi.com/manny -- where I blog and (occasionally) post shinies and (compulsively) caffeinate. If you are inclined to support my habit, you can do so here. (^_~)
> 
> Also! My GW fanfic and fanart hub is still-always-and-forever at LiveJournal -- themanwell.livejournal.com


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